


bittersweet feelings

by cloudchasers_xx



Series: for a long time, i've wanted to do something [2]
Category: Designated Survivor (TV)
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, aaron is a little scared, aaron really cares for hannah, amy is a little shit™, amy lowkey ships it, hannah carries her gun everywhere, healing together, no beta we die like hannah wells, pre Aaron/Hannah, they really love the beach huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23852842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudchasers_xx/pseuds/cloudchasers_xx
Summary: they're healing. they both are.❝ you give me a meaningsomething i can breathe ini know, i know, i know ❞
Relationships: Aaron Shore & Hannah Wells, Amy Bleecker & Aaron Shore, Amy Bleecker & Hannah Wells
Series: for a long time, i've wanted to do something [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714870
Kudos: 3





	bittersweet feelings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hideous_Sun_Demon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hideous_Sun_Demon/gifts).



> whelps idk what this is i just had Feels™ at 3 am and decided to write this

_one week later_

They're back at the beach again.

Aaron is sitting, staring at the line where heaven meets earth, lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand. His eyes are steady to the horizon, face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. Hannah moves closer so that he feels her presence, yet stays quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a while longer. When he does speak, he doesn't tear his eyes away from the landscape in front of him. "I don't miss her anymore." Aaron mutters, but Hannah hears it anyway. The beach is empty, as always as Hannah places a hand on his shoulder. Her lips part to say something, but she stops herself, making Aaron curious. "Say it. Spit it out." Aaron sighs, running a hand through his head of curls.

"I don't think we'll ever be free of the memory of them, but I think I've let Damian go too." Hannah says. “I used to get so scared of moving on but now… I think I can finally let him go.”

“Bullshit. You aren’t scared of anything.” Aaron jokes as Hannah removes her hand and sits next to him, chuckling. “Maybe, but that was the past.” Hannah says, but it doesn’t sound sad, more of a matter of fact kind of way. They sit, enjoying the tranquility of the beach, before Hannah's phone rings, signifying the end of their small break, breaking the silence. They both stand up, brushing the sand off their bodies. Both walk towards the car park, exchanging friendly banter. The orange gold stretches far and wide, the colour of fire hearths and tangerines. It is but the reflection of the dawn, the promise of the rising sun that comes after the velvety night has had its say and the land has rested once more. Hannah stops Aaron.

“Well, I’m going to give you a ride back home, since that’s what neighbours and friends do.” Hannah smiles as she carries Aaron’s bag to her car, with Aaron tailing behind her.

“Yeah,” he mutters so softly, Hannah’s unable to hear him, “friends.”

* * *

Darkened gray smudges of wool threateningly surrounding the sky; like how a predator would encircle its prey. A startling low rumble rings loud in the cool familiar fall air, the sky roaring with satisfaction. Trickles of liquid hit the ground with as much force as a small child. Hungrily, drizzles turn into canon fires, barricading everything in its way. A sense of cleanliness caresses the atmosphere, washing away all impurities and a dense earthly sweet smell rises from the ground, enveloping everything within its soft embrace. Hannah looks out to the night time DC skyline as she stands at the covered roof of her apartment complex, using her cigarette bud to trace it as she takes another puff.

Smoking had been another attempt to piss her father off. Naturally, since her father was a cardiatric doctor, he had blown the gasket and locked her out of the house. A feeble and frail attempt, then seventeen year old Hannah Wells had thought, as she climbed up the tree next to her room’s window, enabling herself to arrive inside. She’s overcome with wistfulness, like a canon, her chest pushes out smoke in rapid, deliberate bursts. Hazy o-rings float upward, distorting and twisting along their wayward path as she pulls her trench coat closer, the chillness getting to her. A voice pulls Hannah out from her thoughts. 

“Thought I’d find you up here. The view's really nice.” Aaron says as Hannah turns around, throwing the pack at him. He catches it effortlessly, taking one out before Hannah lights it with her lighter. They stand in silence, just the occasional lightning of cigarettes. It seems to be a habit whenever they are together, staying quiet but being able to understand each other without even saying a word. Aaron likes it. The peaceful silence only interrupted by the occasional pitter patter of rain hitting the roof. Hannah takes out a flask - she never ceases to surprise him - and drinks from it.

"How did you know I was here?" Hannah asks between cigarettes, after about an hour - at least that's what Aaron thinks - her eyes glassy, as she takes a swig from her flask. She's drunk, and Aaron knows it, since she's gotten rid of the trench coat and she's swaying a little. "You're not the only person that can pick locks." Aaron mutters in reply as he breathes out, the smoke blowing upwards towards the sky. "I'm joking, I used the spare key you gave me to open the door."

Hannah chuckles in reply, before offering the flask. Aaron declines politely, put after a few nudges, Aaron agrees. He takes a gulp, the burning sensation in his throat as he drinks the whiskey, before handing it back to Hannah, who finishes it in one go. "Have you ever wondered," she smiles dreamily as she inhales the smoke, "what would happen if we didn't meet? Because I did, and I think I would have probably killed myself by now. You're… you're my best friend, Aaron Shore. I'm so lucky to have you since you are ninety five percent of my impulse control."

"Right back at you." Aaron laughs, before taking another cigarette from the pack. "You're out of cigarettes, Hannah. I'll get you some new ones." 

"Well, I have more at home. Come in for whiskey and cigarettes?"

"If you make some Long Island Iced Tea."

"Deal."

* * *

Hannah was really enjoying the relaxed feeling, as it had been long since the last time she was able to relax. They stop in front of her apartment door, just opposite Aaron's apartment. The door is ajar, and she immediately starts sobering up. "Aaron?"

"Mhm?"

"You are extremely, positively sure that you locked my door?" Hannah questions, and Aaron looks up from his phone.

"Yep. Triple locked it, in fact. Since Amy's at home."

"Then, pray tell, is my door open?" Hannah says, knowing that something was incredibly wrong, unholstering her gun.

"Five years of friendship and you still surprise me." Aaron chuckles as he opens the door, using his foot. 

"Well, I'm full of surprises then." Hannah jokes as she points her gun to the living room, seeing nothing. "There's a baseball bat behind the door, take that and go to every single room." Aaron does as he's told, and when he enters the bedroom he drops the bat in shock, making Hannah enter. In bright red paint, the words _no victory without sacrifice_ is there, and a photo of her and Aaron at the beach is there, with both their faces scribbled on with what Aaron thinks is black eyeliner.

"I'm calling this in." Hannah says, still processing everything. "Get Amy up, ask her to pack."

This time, Aaron doesn't say anything, and does as he's told. Fifteen minutes pass, and John Foerstel is there together with two teams of FBI agents. "Well, fuck." Amy says as they sit on the living room couch, fiddling with her phone and a bottle of whiskey.

"Fuck indeed." Aaron agrees as the FBI goes in and out of both of their apartments. It's a mess, flashing lights and yellow cards with numbers are all over the place, as John Foerstel towers over them while Hannah lights their cigarettes, passing it to Aaron. "You want to tell me what you have been doing, Hannah?" John asks as Hannah inhales and exhales, the smoke smell lingering in the room. 

"Absolutely nothing. Aaron and I were on the roof, smoking and after two hours, we came down to continue when I noticed the door wasn’t locked and I thought Aaron forgot to lock the door, but he said he locked it," Hannah explains absent mindedly, looking around at the mess of evidence and labeling as John places a hand on her shoulder, “three times, in fact. So I thought someone had broken in, so we went around the house and saw… this.”

"Are you okay?" John says, and Aaron can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy - even though John is married with two kids, with Leo dating his youngest daughter - as Amy smirks.

“ 'm fine, thanks." Hannah brushes his hand off and walks out of the apartment, grabbing the bottle from Amy, who grumbles but continues looking at her phone. Aaron excuses himself from the apartment, before running after Hannah.

* * *

She takes a deep drag and exhales the smoke into the air, watching it disappear in the cloud of smoke above their roof as she looks out the rooftop place while Aaron sits on a worn out bench some person had placed on the roof. Hannah wasn't really sure what to do after she had caught Emily talking with Patrick Lloyd. Then he had uploaded a video of who his boss was, and everything about her; her contacts, her hideouts and they still weren't able to find Emily. She punches the hand rail, repeatedly with frustration, making Aaron intervene. He stands in front of her, his hands grabbing her arms as she punched him with bloody knuckles, before realising who she was punching. She pulled away, flicking away the burnt out cigarette, before lighting a new one.

"I'm so _fucking_ tired, Aaron. I don't want to find her anymore. God, I just want to rest but…" Hannah trails off.

"But?" 

"She hurt you, Aaron. I can't forget that." Hannah mutters, taking a drink from the bottle as she looks into the night sky. "She hurt everyone I loved. Scott, Damian… I can't let that happen again. Fucking damn it, she was part of the Capitol bombing, fuck, every national emergency Kirkman had to wrangle with was her doing. There are still grieving families who lost their loved ones in the bombing and I just want to give them a sense of closure." Hannah sighs. "God knows they didn't get any. God knows _I_ didn’t get any."

"Yes, but we know she's back in D.C. for a reason, right? We just don’t know what." Aaron asks, changing the subject. 

"Yes, either she's going to do something large scale, or to us. You need to tell the president, Aaron." Hannah instructs. "And once you tell them, all three of us will be under twenty four seven protection. Want me to follow you?"

"Couldn't have picked anyone better." Aaron smiled.

* * *

"Why, pray tell, is Amy here with us?" Hannah grumbles as they speed through D.C., to the White House, as Amy grinned in the background, snapping a photograph of a grumpy Hannah through the front mirror

"Well, if I leave her with John Foerstel, he'll probably kill himself in the first five minutes." Aaron laughs, stopping at a red light.

"And somehow, I managed to live with her for three months, five days, and twenty hours." Hannah mutters, leaning back on the car seat as she crosses her arms against her chest. Aaron arrives at the White House, most office lights still on. 

"Jesus," Amy says as they climb out of the car, "there still are people inside?"

"This is considered a normal day, a good one perhaps. On bad days we usually sleep and eat in the White House for at least a week." Aaron says as he collects a visitor's badge from the Secret Service agent.

"God, how can any of you work here?" Amy asks, appalled as she looks at her phone. "Who's Emily, by the way?" Hannah turned her head so fast, she was sure it could've broken her neck. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

"While you were having a depressive episode on the roof while smoking like some edgy teen. You two smell like smoke, y'know?" Amy smirks as she looks up at the two adults.

"I will send you back to England in a crate." Hannah threatens as they continue walking through the West Wing.

"Aww, Hannah. You would never."

"Try me."


End file.
